Do Girls Rule?
by umbrella0326
Summary: This story explores how women either are or aren't strong enough to face The Walking Dead. Michonne stumbles across the farm and struggles to fit in. Her life gets more complicated. Rated T. Don't own TWD. Completely AU.
1. Chapter 1

AN - one of the points of the graphic novels and TV show is that gender doesn't matter. However, early in the series, women weren't looked at necessarily as warriors. That was curious to me. So, I started this little story with the idea in mind of what can happen in this 'new world'.

By the way, I'm a guy.

Enjoy!

* * *

Sunny skies.

Oh, how those darn summers in central Georgia could be so hot. When you're alone in the world, except for your ex-boyfriend and his best friend tied up in chains as walkers, you don't care about anyone but yourself. It's not a selfish thing. It's just that there's no one for you to look out for. Your loved ones have transformed into monsters, your child is…well, she wouldn't think about that then. And when you focus on the necessities of survival instead of living, doesn't natural selfishness make sense?

The mind can wander when you're alone. You can go into dangerous territory too. Memories of what life once was can haunt and consume you. And if you rest too long on them, throw into despair. And that just wasn't her style. Life needs to be lived. And with the constant reminder of what can happen with her all the time in chains, it's not like she didn't _want_ to live. Or maybe she didn't.

She crossed Highway 24, not too far from Atlanta. One of the boys straggled a little, but a quick tug of the chains would fix that. She paused near an old mailbox. The word on it said, "Green" and briefly wondered who those people might've been. Blinking those thoughts away, she headed south, away from the mailbox. After a quick adjustment of her kitana, she resumed her laborious march to nowhere. Just like a walker.

When she passed a short bridge, she heard something funny. In the woods, it can be a tricky thing to pinpoint where sounds come from. She turned around and could hear a weird kind of clicking sound. It wasn't something she was accustomed to lately and she didn't understand.

She stopped. She grabbed her sword. She looked around.

Her long locks clung to her shoulders in the heat and humidity. The grip tightened on her kitana. There wasn't anything nearby and _still_ those strange sounds kept up.

And they were getting louder.

Deftly, she put her hood up. Scanning right, then left, and then right again, she could feel some weird kind of breeze blowing tree limbs and leaves. A rustle of little sounds accompanied the bigger one and it unnerved her. And when she turned back towards the south, that's when she saw it.

A horse. And not just a horse. A rider too.

It was a woman. She had brown hair and was bouncing in her saddle. The woman wore blue jeans and a cowboy hat. The horse was running at medium speed and seemed to be enjoying itself with the woman on it.

Michonne chuckled. Sure, it made sense that a farmgirl would have dressed this way, but even before the world died, this wasn't an unusual sight. But still, this was a stranger and Michonne hadn't come across very many ones. And the ones she did, weren't nice. So, she placed her sword back in her scabbard and stopped moving.

The horse galloped closer.

Michonne watched.

And just as the horse came near them, Michonne gasped as the woman took out some kind of weapon ready to strike Michonne's boys! _No way!_

A baseball bat was swung near her! Michonne quickly withdrew her sword and blocked the shot! The horse whinnied and all too soon, the farmgirl brought the fine mare to a stop and stared at her.

They watched each other, panting during the Mexican standoff. The farmgirl's curious eyes met Michonne's furious ones. But the brunette didn't know what to make of what she saw – here appeared to be a woman with deformed walkers in chains, and she was holding a sword. Nothing added up. Nothing.

"Whatcha doin'?" the brunette asked.

As usual, Michonne didn't answer. The other woman huffed.

"Whatcha doin' with those two walkers?"

Again, the fierce warrior didn't say anything.

"Fine." Farmgirl said, tsking the horse to a small gallop near her. "My name is Maggie. If you're out here lookin' for trouble, you're gonna git it. Otherwise…" she eyed Michonne up and down, "you can follow me up the path to my daddy's farmhouse. Mailbox is marked 'Green'. Come if you want. Yah!"

And with that, Maggie kicked her spurs and the horse quickly galloped away. Michonne watched her go, letting her sword fall down.

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	2. Chapter 2

AN – I'm using Carol from the graphic novels. For those who haven't read them, her character evolves very differently from the TV show. Be prepared…

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She knew the name Green sounded familiar. Of course she had read it on that mailbox from before. The highway was long and straight and she could've just gone back in that direction. But Maggie trotted off to the south, towards an open field. Horse hooves can make very deep impressions in the earth and it would be an easy thing to follow.

But Michonne hesitated. Just who was this strange farmgirl? Why did she invite Michonne back to their home? There had to be something to this. Trust was such a foreign concept nowadays and there had to be some ulterior motive…right? And yet, when Michonne looked in the backpacks on the boys, she could see that she was low of nearly every single supply she needed. And water is always the first one that's needed. She clasped the only bottle left and it was only a third full. A heavy sigh escaped her mouth. She ignored the sweatbeads dripping down her temples and refused to look at the sun. Michonne realized she had relatively few options. Sure, she could find a creek to fill her water bottle, assuming she didn't get cholera, and the boys had been good packmules and camouflage for so long.

 _For so long_ …

Michonne blinked. Twice. She wanted more answers. But she had none. Perhaps this Maggie person had answers and there's always strength in numbers. Maggie made it sound like there were several people at this farm. Farms always have resources of some kind. And the rest would be nice…

A walker strolled across the other side of the highway. It's bloody skin and dull eyes roamed the grass along Highway 24 and it didn't even bother to notice her, thanks to her little camouflage trick. Michonne stared at the walker, who looked and dressed like he used to be an executive bigshot in his day. He wore a torn, dirty suit and his shoes were gone.

Michonne had two choices – join a farm community or walk amongst the dead ones. There really wasn't much of a choice, was there? So, with a heavy sigh and much trepidation, she turned towards the creekbed and followed the horse's hooves. The boys didn't give her any trouble as she held their chains. She no longer needed to look at them. Instead, she looked towards her future and there's something ugly about the future – you don't know what it will hold.

Another sigh.

She crossed the creek.

A third sigh.

Michonne climbed up the little hill and could see a grand farmhouse in the distance. From her distance, there were at least four chimneys on the two-story, yellow house, complete with a windmill and dilapidated barn. A truck, two cars, and a motorcycle dotted the pathway leading to the wrap-around porch and the roof looked like it was in good shape. She shielded her eyes from the sun and peered along the entire property.

There had to have been at least four wells that she could see. Those old Courtesan wells didn't promise clean water or anything, but that's what iodine tablets are for. Sure they made the water chalky, but it's better than urine or cholera. A building held a big generator that a stern, older man was operating. She couldn't see anyone else. Including the mysterious horse rider Maggie.

After a few minutes, she arrived at the perimeter of the compound. She could see a barbwire fence surrounding the property and clothes were on a line drying. The windmill spun, flowers were in the garden, and everything seemed normal. Michonne walked along the little path, cautiously at first but with determination too. The boys followed. And when her gaze returned to the farmhouse, she could see a very pretty young girl. They stared at each other, both of them coming to a stop.

"Hi." The blonde girl said.

Michonne, of course, said nothing.

"Are you the one Maggie told us about?"

Again, Michonne was silent. That's when the blonde girl flipped some of her hair along her right ear and took a few steps towards Michonne. Oddly enough, the fierce warrior took a defensive stance and the girl stopped.

"I'm not gonna hurt'cha." She said, a little whiny. And then, she looked down. "My mom likes this dress and I hate it. A walker grabbed it once. Wanna see where?"

Disarmed a little, Michonne relaxed and stared at her.

"It's here." She said. The girl pointed at her hip. "See? It grabbed me and I ran. My mom always said to run. That's when Andrea shot it."

The girl smiled. Michonne stared. And no one else was around.

"You ever get grabbed by a walker?" she asked. Michonne didn't say anything. "It hurts. They grab hard. I mean, they grab _hard_!"

Once again, they stared at each other but something told Michonne that she should at least say something, anything to this courageous little girl who survived a walker attack.

"You're brave." Michonne quietly said.

The girl brightened! "I am?!" She giggled. "I think so too. My mom doesn't like being reminded of that but it's OK for _you_ to say that. I'm twelve years old. I'm Sophia."

"Michonne." She flatly replied.

Then, Sophia squinted a little and crinkled her nose. "Why do you keep those smelly walkers with you?"

The warrior looked behind her momentarily and for the first time since the dead walked, finally opened up. "They're my protection."

"But…" Sophia began, scratching her hair, "they're walkers."

"That's right, Sophia. But see here?" she pointed at the boys, "I cut off their arms and jaws and they can't hurt me!"

Michonne smiled. But Sophia looked appalled! She ran away and Michonne looked totally deflated. When the girl ran back in the house, a small commotion began and one-by-one, others appeared on the porch. Quite a few, in fact. Instantly, Michonne's defenses went up, her right hand near her kitana just in case. She recognized Maggie but the others were completely new. Michonne didn't like this at all. Not one bit.

One of the strangest Mexican standoffs took place. The fierce Michonne and her chained boys against at least a dozen people. Most of them were women who looked confused. Some of the men did the same, while others just watched the exchange. It was clearly obvious on that warm summer day that something was going to drastically change in their lives. But none of them had a clue what that was.

Michonne eyed each of them individually. She tightened her grip on her chains while the other arm was on-the-ready for her kitana. But the farm residents didn't move. Instead, they just assembled nearby and simply stared. It was almost comical, in a way.

"Hey!"

Michonne looked up at Maggie, who had exclaimed.

"So you decided to come?"

As expected, the fierce warrior said absolutely nothing, glaring at everyone except Sophia. Maggie took it upon herself to march down the porch steps and approach her.

"So, what's your name?" she demanded.

Michonne glared. The others just watched. And Sophia stepped forward.

"Michonne." Sophia quietly said.

Maggie stared holes into her. "Michonne?"

"Yeah." Michonne said.

Maggie looked surprised and turned to the warrior. "That's the first word you've said to me."

Michonne looked at Sophia. "I told her."

For the briefest of moments, Maggie smiled. And then, she sternly said, "Well, that's good. Sophia is a good girl. We have plenty of fresh water and work to do. You're welcome to it."

As if it was a broken record, Michonne said nothing. Sophia was confused and was steered away by her mother, Carol. Carol fearfully brisked away from the commotion. A beautiful blonde woman approached Maggie from behind.

"Don't forget the well."

Maggie nodded. "That's right, Andrea. We gotta get that walker outta there." She looked at Michonne. "Get rid of those walkers. We got a walker-free zone here."

Maggie and Andrea walked away. Michonne looked like she didn't know what to do. Left to her own devices, she scanned the rest of the group and could see that nearly all of them were headed towards the west. That blonde woman mentioned something about a well and Michonne considered this. Her reception was hardly warm but it was something. And something is better than nothing. So, when you're alone in this harsh, terrible new world, you have to consider your options.

There would be food. There would be clean water. And there were people. People loving people. People living. And people who seemed tight and together. After all, isn't that was a family truly is?

So when the women and some of the men strolled off towards the well, none of them noticed that they had a follower. Michonne didn't introduce herself any further as she secretly followed them and didn't really have the chance. Instead, she simply beheaded the boys and said goodbye to the past. It might've been rough for her. It might've sent her in an emotional tailspin. But it didn't.

After all, there was a well that needed work.

.


	3. Chapter 3

There's a funny thing that happens to people who live in Georgia in the summer. It's hot. And not just hot, but humid. Sure, it happens frequently throughout North America but Georgia seems to have a special kind of heat – the kind that envelops you and never lets you escape. The sun seems brighter, the days seem longer, and you'd think the world would be happier for it.

But it isn't. Not always. Not when the dead amble and want to eat you.

Michonne considered this as she followed the others towards the northwest corner of the field. She was wiping her sword as she walked, thinking of how hot it was, how nice it used to be to wander in a field with only yourself and your thoughts, how Andre used to-

She shook her head. After placing her sword back in its sheath, she was surprised she didn't fall into the world of despair. Michonne Anthony realized what she had just done. She knew she had just beheaded the ones she cared about and blamed herself for their deaths. Well, not really. Their demise was basically their fault. She wouldn't accept the responsibility for their stupid lives. At least, not completely. No. She just wouldn't. She just wouldn't.

There was a slight incline in the field and she could see a few of the others. Most were still walking in the same direction while a few others were positioned at the top of the crest. As hot as it was, no one was wearing a hat or shorts. Instead, she saw women and men with work gloves, hand tools, and positioned at the top was a movable crane often used in ditch digging. It confused Michonne a little bit, but this well that had the trouble seemed to be pretty deep if they needed that large farm tool.

Sophia wasn't there. Instead, she could see Maggie and a few others that she at least met once. But the men were completely new to her. There were only a handful of them.

She reached into her back pocket and paused. That's when she realized her water bottle and other crucial supplies were still back with The Boys. She refused to call them by name. Instead, she just used them as packmules and camouflage. It was easier that way. Michonne resumed walking and was the last one to arrive. Maggie looked at her.

"You made it." Maggie simply said.

"Yeah."

"We need some help."

"OK."

Everyone found a position around the well and stared down into it. It was comical to Michonne. She envisioned a group of people staring into a car engine, contemplating how to fix it. To many men, this was the sign of a good day. But to many women, that wasn't always the case. And this well was no car. No. This well was a lifesource. And that was much more important than a car.

Michonne arrived and stood near Andrea. The blonde turned to her and partially smiled.

"Andrea." She said.

"Michonne."

Andrea's smile grew. "I like that name."

"Thanks."

The two resumed the task at hand and gathered with the others to stare.

The well was one of those old courtesan wells, at least thirty feet deep. The sides were encased in brick and sod but for only about ten feet. After that, it was just dirt.

"I'm T-Dogg."

Michonne suddenly looked up to see a very large man standing in front of her. He had a goofy grin on his face and his hand was extended.

"Michonne."

"I had an aunt named Michonne!" T-Dogg exclaimed. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah."

She turned back to the well. As she did, she noticed he did too, but as he did, he glanced at her full breasts. She wanted to smile. She could've felt creeped out. But she didn't. Instead, she just got back to work, such as it was.

"Hand me a flashlight!" Somebody yelled.

Michonne didn't recognize the male voice but could see him across the well. He was a lanky, good ol' Southern boy who Michonne immediately profiled as a lawbreaker from before.

 _From before._

She looked away and watched this man as Carol handed him the light. He shone it down in the well and for the first time, they all heard grumbling.

"Daryl! Get back!" Carol whined.

"Awwww, hell!" Daryl exclaimed. "He ain't goin' nowheres! Look! See fer yourself!"

But Carol wouldn't. Instead, she just covered her mouth with her hands and turned away.

"Awwww!" Daryl said. "You!"

Michonne looked up but didn't say anything.

"Lemme see your sword."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"'Cause I wanna see how deep this sumbitch is!"

Michonne thought for a second and said, "Why don't you just tie the flashlight to a rope and lower it in?"

Every single person there stared at her. She didn't like the attention but realized she'd said something profound. At least, it was to them. That's when a very handsome man with a slight Southern twang spoke up.

"She's right." He approached her and extended his hand. "Rick Grimes."

She didn't shake it but stared at him. There was something so familiar about him…

"Michonne."

"Alright, Michonne." Rick agreeably said. "Nice to meet you." Then, he turned his attention to Andrea. "Andrea, get some rope from the crane. Daryl, make sure everything's safe when we lower it. Maggie, how many more wells on this property?"

"Four." The brunette said.

"OK. Let's deal with this one firs-"

 _Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….._

Andrea returned with the rope. "I think we all know what's down there."

"I jus' hope it's an animal or sumthin'." Daryl muttered.

Michonne watched Andrea, who had some help from Maggie, tie the light to a rope and tested the binds. When completed, the women attached the rope to the crane and another woman, pretty with long dark hair, stood at the crank.

"Let me know when you're ready, Andrea."

"Thanks, Lori."

After just a few seconds and more grumbles could be heard from below, the rope was ready. Daryl turned the flashlight on and Lori slowly turned the crank. Everyone gathered as close as they could to the well's lip, peering into the darkness. No one spoke. No one really breathed. The sun and Georgia heat beat down on them and they were totally absorbed with the task at hand. Michonne too inched forward, sandwiched between a young pretty blonde girl and T-Dogg.

Foot by foot, the flashlight lowered. And when it finally hit something, it harmlessly bounced off. Lori stopped cranking.

"What is it?" she asked.

No one said anything. The light danced like a disco ball and couldn't really focus on anything in particular. Michonne, Andrea, and Maggie all craned their heads to see further down. The sound had disappeared and they hoped it was an animal. But there's something about hope in a world ruled by the dead – it's very hard to come by.

Suddenly the light wobbled! And coming up to the surface of the water was what they feared was there.

A walker. And it was totally revolting! Bloated from too much time in the water, its skin bubbled and one of its eyes were shut. Its rotting teeth opened when it looked up and saw human meals. The mouth produced that god-awful sound and everyone knew what they were up against. This fat, disgusting creature had fallen into the well and they had to get it out. After all, water is precious.

Everyone sighed. How would they get it out? What could be done?

The first one to look up was Michonne. She looked at Maggie.  
"Where's Sophia?"

Maggie looked at her. "Back home. Why?"

"Well," Michonne contemplatively began, "if we could lower someone who's small and put a rope around it, we could use the crane to pull it out."

" _I'm not letting my daughter down there!"_ Carol screeched from out of nowhere. " _How could you say such a thing?!_ "

Michonne just stared at her and said nothing. Rick started to intervene, but Maggie would've made a good politician if the world hadn't died.

"Carol," Maggie patiently began, "we're not going to do that. We're not." Then, she looked at Michonne. "But that is a good idea. We just can't use Sophia."

Michonne nodded. "Is there anyone else who's small enough to fit down that well?"

She looked around. Clearly, the men were too big. T-Dogg especially, who was staring at her with a Cheshire cat grin on his face. She didn't understand why until he took a sudden side step, which revealed a cute, Asian man hiding behind him.

"Um, hi." He meekly said.

Michonne peered at him. He was certainly the right size and he knew it. He looked around at everyone, who was staring at him. The man sighed.

"I guess…I guess I'll do it."

"Thanks, Glenn." Andrea said.

Preparations began. Andrea and Maggie secured another rope from the crane and tied it around Glenn's waist. Lori retrieved the flashlight and handed it to him. Carol and Michonne watched from afar, as did the rest of the men. And within just a few seconds, Glenn was ready. He looked at everyone. Lori handed him the flashlight.

"Tell my family I love them." Glenn darkly joked.

Lori put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll lower you down slowly. At the first sign of trouble, I'll pull you out."

"I'll help, Lori."

Michonne had said this and everyone stared. This newcomer was going to help one of their own and she didn't even hesitate. Andrea and Carol stepped out of her way and Michonne made her way to the crane. Daryl and Rick stood by the well, guns at the ready. Glenn swallowed and approached the well, looking down.

"Ohhhh God." He muttered.

"Don't worry." Lori added. "Nice and slow."

"Yeah…yeah…"

Lori turned the crank. Glenn immediately held onto the rope with both hands, despite the flashlight wobbling in his left. As she promised, Lori lowered Glenn slowly and Andrea pulled her gun out, just in case. The clicking of the lowering crane was louder than any Georgian bugs could produce and Glenn certainly wouldn't forget this experience. The walker growled as it looked up to its meal slowly, slowly coming towards it…

It seemed hotter. The sun beat down with a ferocity as sweat was wiped from brows. Michonne and Lori grunted with effort as they eased the cute guy down. And down. And down. The walker moans got louder and Glenn grunted in fear. Wide-eyed, he was then only about ten feet away from the walker.

"It sure is cooler down here!" He joked.

"Are you there yet?" Lori asked.

"No! Lower!"

Michonne's arms ached as Lori's probably did too. The old hand crank creaked along its teeth, desperately needing some lubricant. T-Dogg watched the rope stretched to it's limit and was about to say something when suddenly, the rope began to strip!

"Lower!" Glenn yelled.

"OK!" Lori replied.

"Noooooo!" T-Dogg yelled. And then, it happened.

The rope snapped! Glenn screamed and plummeted towards the walker! T-Dogg was the first to dive on the rope and used his massive strength to hold on for dear life. But the weight was immense and he scooted on the ground towards the well! _He screamed!_

Everyone moved. All hands that could grabbed the rope and held on for dear life. Glenn's screams echoed through the earth and hit their ears. Commands to 'hold on!' and 'tie it! Tie it!' were yelled and everyone's hands had rope burns.

"OK! OK!" Glenn yelled. "Pull me up!"

T-Dogg was the closest to the well. "Pull! Pull! Pull!"

All of the women and most of the men began pulling up. But when they did, they heard another terrifying sound.

"It got me! It got me!" Glenn cried.

" _What?!_ " Rick hollered.

"It got me! It's on my foot! It's coming up with me! _Help me! Hellllp meeee!_ "

Michonne realized something in that moment. Everyone was helping this lone man, who was risking his life for the greater good, to save him. Every single one. She hadn't seen that very often in her travels. She turned and saw Maggie, Andrea, Lori, and even Carol, pull on this thin lifeline that held a man's fate. And as she pulled on the rope along with everyone else, she thought that this might be a good place to live.


	4. Chapter 4

AN – I repeat… I am using Carol from the graphic novels, not the TV show. She doesn't become what she became in the show.

In addition, I'm changing the Courtesan well scene from season two to fit this story.

* * *

.

" _Get me outta here!"_

The panic in Glenn's voice pounded their ears. The poor man was only inches away from the cavernous jaws of the walker. One hand on Glenn's foot and the other swinging to get another, its grotesque mouth was wide open, guttural growls filled the air, and Glenn only felt pure terror. The walker's jaws opened and shut, dreaming of its meal and hoping to satisfy its hungry urge. It just wanted to eat and eat and _eat!_

Up above, T-Dogg's feet were planted on the edge of the well and nearly everyone was pulling. Backs strained, palms burned, and every little inch mattered. They had to get Glenn out of there!

"Puuuuuul!" T-Dogg roared.

Andrea strained, Rick hollered, Lori pulled, Michonne gritted her teeth, Daryl heaved, and even Carol did the best she could. But they weren't getting anywhere and Glenn was in trouble!

" _Get me the fuck outta here!_ " Glenn screamed. He yanked his foot to shake the walker off, but each wobble only sent the man lower into the well.

"Hold still!" Michonne ordered. "We're getting you outta there!"

Rick glanced at her and noted what she said. He didn't take his eyes off her as she too looked somewhat familiar to him. Back at the task at hand, Glenn finally stated to rise a little. Lori tried to tie the rope back to the pulley on the crank, but didn't have enough. She just didn't have enough!

"I need more rope!" She screamed. "Puuuuul!"

T-Dogg rested for half a second, relaxed his grip, and then fiercely _yanked_ on the rope! Everyone was surprised by the sudden jolt, but it gave them the groundwork they needed. For the love of anything holy, they had to get Glenn out of there!

"More!" Lori screamed.

And just as Lori was almost able to secure the rope on the pulley, one of the worst sights imaginable could be seen by both T-Dogg and Michonne.

The rope began to break.

Their eyes instantly grew wide and the twine spun slowly. And then, it twirled like a ballerina , bouncing on the well's lip. And in an instant, Michonne unsheathed her sword. With the speed of a martial artist, the group was stunned to see this stranger, this odd woman, this beautiful foreigner hurl her sword onto the rope and tie it together with the slack. Immediately, she resumed her place right behind T-Dogg and Andrea and began pulling.

Everyone was shocked but saw what she had done. With renewed vigor, everyone pulled and suddenly, the job wasn't as difficult. They still had to heave two dead weights – one alive and one sort of alive. The task wasn't over, but the sword tied the rope before it could split and Lori finally had enough for the pulley.

But she struggled with it. The added weight was too much for her and suddenly, there was Andrea. She pulled with Lori. Carol pulled as well. And Maggie. And finally, Daryl.

And there they were. Humans pulling another human to safety in the pursuit of saving a life. And fresh water, of course. Glenn was nowhere near the ground yet and his cries hurt their ears. The women pulled, the men guided, and the sun spread rivers of sweat over their faces. Inches of progress soon became a foot. And then another foot. And still, Glenn couldn't shake the fat, disgusting walker from him.

Finally, Glenn could be seen. As he approached the top, Rick extended his hand and T-Dogg yanked with one, closing burst of strength. Glenn crawled on the ground but the primal talon of the walker was still on his ankle. Now on the ground, Glenn finally shook it off and everyone could see the unpleasant, undignified, and undisciplined walker. It's bloated form reached out towards Glenn and then anyone who was nearby. The rope was released by everyone with a series of harsh grunts.

But the walker started to fall back in!

 _Pffffffffft_!

In a split second, Michonne had yanked her sword free from the rope's fulcrum and she sliced its head off. Unfortunately, when she did that, blood poured like Niagara out of its neck. Carol turned to vomit but only dryheaved. The others looked on with disgust. And when a gentle breeze blew by, the headless cannibal, blood-letting and all, fell into the well.

.

"Stop blaming yourself."

Michonne looked up. She saw the sympathetic eyes of Andrea looking down at her. The blonde took residence right beside this new arrival and continued to stare at her. Michonne could see that Andrea was beautiful and didn't know why she was being so compassionate. And Andrea, ever the bright one, could interpret what the fierce warrior was thinking. Andrea chuckled.

"I too," the blonde said, "know what's like to be an outsider."

Michonne said nothing. So, Andrea went on.

"What happened at the well couldn't have been stopped. And you know that."

"I guess…"

Andrea shifted her head. "Oh, come on! We _barely_ got Glenn out of there. You helped us save his life and you didn't even know him."

"How's he doin'?" Michonne asked, ignoring the praise.

Andrea looked towards the setting sun. "Herschel is treating his ankle. Glenn should be lucky he was wearing boots. The walker didn't scratch him or anything. He has a mild upper ankle sprain and that's it." She turned to face Michonne. "You saved his life."

" _We_ saved his life."

Andrea's head flipped from shoulder to shoulder. "Well, a little from column A and a little from-"

"Column B."

Andrea smiled and she almost saw Michonne smile too.

"But we can't use that well anymore." The warrior morosely said.

Andrea sighed. "I know. But there are others we can use."

"Water is precious."

"More precious than a life?"

Michonne considered this but said nothing. Andrea watched her for a few seconds and then turned to her other side.

"Oh!" Andrea began. "I almost forgot. This is for you." She handed her a small bowl. Michonne looked it over and saw it was some kind of vegetable soup.

"We can only have meat once a week or so" Andrea casually said. "There's just not enough meat to go around to feed fifteen people."

"Fifteen?" Michonne surprisingly asked.

Andrea smiled. "Yeah. Fifteen." And then, she looked away. "We probably had double that number in the past…"

Michonne also looked away. And there they were – two women, basically meeting for the first time, bonding over what humans are often known to do.

 _Survive_.

"I'm going in." Andrea said, getting up. She brushed some dust off her jeans and turned to Michonne. "We got another big day tomorrow."

"Doin' what?" Michonne asked.

"The usual."

"And what's that?"

Andrea turned and walked towards the screen door. "We're farmers now, girl!" And with a laugh, she opened the door and went inside.

Michonne was then alone. She watched the glory of the dusk in the far distance. Who knew she'd find such a peaceful environment? At least, it was so far. And after being alone for so long, she hoped she'd be able to stay. But she was worried. Her actions led to the well's contamination and there was nothing that could be done. She tried to do the right thing and she did help save a life, but at a terrible price. At least to her it was a terrible price. And as she felt the sword's weight on her back, she couldn't help but be reminded of the enormous responsibility it is to live in this harsh, new, terrifying world.

Michonne heard something. She looked up and could see Carol walking in the field. Sophia was trying to catch up to her. Michonne couldn't hear their conversation but it was clear Sophia wanted her mom's attention. Carol finally came to a stop and waved her arms at the blonde girl. A motherly finger was pointed several times at her and then once towards the farm. Sophia's head dropped and she waddled back to the farm. Meanwhile, Carol resumed walking towards the setting sun, her hands covering her mouth, eyes, ears, and mouth again from time to time. Michonne just sighed.

And then, she heard an absolutely wonderful sound coming from inside the farmhouse – laughter. In fact, she heard it repeat in an awesome pattern, like a needle skipping on a record player. There's something incredible about laughter. When heard in the right way, it sounds like singing.

So, ignoring Carol, Michonne Anthony lumbered into a standing position. She grabbed the soup bowl, turned and walked towards the door, hearing the laughter grow in volume. It chorused to her like an aria and she closed her eyes, absorbing and absorbing all of the glorious sounds resonating in her brain. She thought she'd never hear joyous sounds again. She thought she'd never find a family again – a _real_ family, that argues and fights and loves and supports and feeds and argues some more. There would be real tears and real fears and real _love_ here. And she considered if she could be a part of that. Doesn't everyone?

Finally, Michonne entered the farmhouse. Herschel and Maggie saw her first and smiled. He approached her first.

"Glad to meet you, Michonne." He politely said. "I'm Herschel Green."

"Michonne."

His smile widened. "You're welcome to stay."

 _You're welcome to stay_. Michonne could've kissed him right there. But instead, she just nodded. He acknowledged it and walked towards the living room. Michonne partially followed him as Maggie watched her. When Michonne was around the corner, she peered into the living room. Inside, the men were playing Texas Hold 'Em and carousing. Who knew what liquid was in their glasses right then. But Michonne didn't care. And then, she turned to the right.

Lori was drying dishes, Andrea was washing them, Beth was drilling screws into a cupboard, and Maggie held a plumbing snake in her hand. That's when Maggie smiled for the first time at Michonne and waved her over to her.

"A woman's work is never done." Maggie said.

.


	5. Chapter 5

AN – It's always a risk to write stories in TWD fandom when you blend the graphic novels and TV show. Remember – we writers _love_ to explore, including OCs and AUs. So, please bear with me on this story and choose to accept what we writers can alter. You never know – you just might like what a writer presents…

* * *

.

"I before E, except after C…I before E, except after C…I before E, except after C. I before-"

"You _don't_ have to keep repeating that, _Sophia_."

"I do _too_ , _Carl_!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you-"

"Alright, that's enough." Carol admonished. "Just get back to your spelling lesson."

The kids didn't like that and glared at each other. Regardless, Sophia turned the page in her book and Carl inspected his pencil. She had some problems spelling tricky words like, "receive", "survive", and "deceive", but it had to be done. The teacher would be none too pleased with them if they got behind in their studies. Carol watched them peruse the literature. She sipped on mint tea and glanced towards the kitchen now and then. It was just the three of them in the grand ol' farmhouse that day and they seemed to enjoy the relative privacy of it all.

But it wasn't private. And it would never be. And it would never be _their_ house.

Behind them, Michonne was leaning against the wall watching them from the entryway. At first, she was baffled. These kids, these twelve-year old survivors were learning how to spell in a world that blatantly no longer cared if they could. Why teach them? What would be the value?

Then again, with no radios, internet, cellphones, television, streaming service, or reliable electricity, you could always read or write novels. Or short stories. Or poetry.

Or fanfiction!

As time passed, the kids were silent. Lost in their studies, Michonne watched with an odd kind of fondness that could only be described as "kind of awkward". She didn't understand this need for education but Carol was not to be denied. Sophia and Carl were behind in their studies and reading can always be helpful. They could read can labels, generator instructions, ammunition containers, or highway signs.

Suddenly, a hissing noise could be heard. Carol flipped her head towards the kitchen and widened her eyes.

"Oh, my soup!" she hollered. "Kids, just keep studying. I'll be right back." Immediately, she darted towards the kitchen and was out of sight.

That left Michonne to her own devices. She watched the homey scene unfold before her. Carl's head flipped left to right as he studied and Sophia's little lips were pursed with determination. With reluctant admiration, Michonne could see that great care was being taken to make sure these kids grew up the way the group wanted.

Not that that may have truly been needed, of course.

"What's this mean?" Sophia asked. She turned the spelling book towards Carl. He took a look at it and cocked his head to the side again.

"That one?" He pointed.

"Yeah. What's that?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. I can't even say it!"

"Why not?"

"'Cause I don't know how! Look at that word! How do you even _start_ to say it?!"

She turned the book back to her and put her finger on her lower lip. "Ummmm…. Lemme seeee…." She too tilted her head and inspected the word. Finally, she said the letters together. "D-E-C-A-P-I-T-A-T-E."

Carl looked it over and offered, "Duh….pac….tit?" Sophia said nothing. So, Carl tried again. "Duh…cap…" He sighed.

"Decapitate." Michonne quietly said.

The kids whirled around and saw her standing there. Michonne seemed so out of place suddenly and didn't realize that she may have intruded. A smile was the furthest thing from her mind, but clearly not from the kids. They brightened when she said that!

"Really?" Sophia asked. "What is it?"

"Yeah," Carl added. "What is it?"

"It's pronounced," Michonne said, slowly walking towards them, "Dee-cap-uh-tate. See?" She pointed at the words and she repeated them. The kids watched and clearly figured it out.

"Oh!" Carl said. And then, he calmed down and looked up at her. She hovered over him and Sophia was still smiling.

"Oh, I see!" Sophia happily said. "Dee-cap-uh-tate!"

"Yes!" Michonne exclaimed.

"Decapitate. Decapitate. Decapitate."

"That's right, Sophia!"

The pretty girl looked up at her. "Thanks, Michonne!"

The warrior would not admit to herself that it felt good to hear that. And she would _not_ admit that she almost smiled. Almost.

"That's your name?" Carl asked.

"Yeah."

"What is it again?"

"It's _Michonne_ , you dummy!" Sophia exclaimed.

"I'm not dumb!" Carl whined.

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

'No, I'm-"

"That's enough, kids." Michonne amiably said. "Just get back to your words."

"OK!" Sophia joyously said.

"OK!" Carl said with a boyish smile.

And this time, Michonne finally let herself smile. Oh, it wasn't much and her full lips only contracted a little, but it was enough to send weird little flutters throughout her body. This group was so focused on education and family and she knew, she just absolutely knew, that she could have a home here if they let her. She wondered what she could do to contribute more. She wanted this life. She wanted to live. She wanted to help in so, so many ways. And when life wants to be lived, it can be very demanding. So, in an instant, she turned on her heels and headed out the door. Nearly a full smile on her face, she left the farmhouse and headed towards the barn. There had to be something to do in there.

Back in the house, Carol had watched the whole scene unfold before her eyes…and had a scowl on her face.

.

As Michonne walked the thirty or so yards towards the barn, she could see some activity around her. Andrea was perched on the top of an RV with a shotgun in her lap. Daryl and Herschel were arguing over the size of channel locks and rivets to seal the generator. Lori appeared to be picking cabbage from the garden and Maggie was overseeing it. Michonne walked by them and took a deep breath. Sure, it was muggy and in the old days… _the old days_ …the weather forecasters would've said there was an air quality alert. She didn't care. Instead, she thought she could help with something and resumed her trek to the barn.

Oh, the structure had seen better days. The cornice where the hay pulley was located was clearly not used anymore. Boards stuck out in places they shouldn't and perches on the second level could use some touch-up work. The sliding door was locked and when she approached it, she could see the scarring and rust from overuse and possible neglect. Michonne inspected everything about it and didn't want to admit that she might not find something useful to do in there. But when a woman is determined to help and provide, well, there's really no stopping her, is there?

"Hey."

Michonne whirled around and was surprised to see Sophia standing behind her. Fresh memories of the spelling lesson hung in their brains and they politely regarded one another. Michonne knelt down a little, feeling her sword dangle on her shoulder. But all too soon, Sophia turned into a stern little girl.

"You're not going in there!" She alarmingly said.

Michonne cocked her head to the side. "We're not?"

"Nope!"

"OK. Why not?"

Sophia glanced at the barn doors, back to Michonne, and took a half-step towards her. That's when she whispered, " _They're_ in there."

Michonne straightened up. "Who? Who's in there?" She glanced behind her with caution and then back to the little girl.

"I'm not…" Sophia stomped her foot on the ground. "I don't know how to say the word right."

"Well… Spell it out. Like we did with decapitate."

That comment pleased Michonne but clearly not Sophia. She didn't like anything about this conversation and was uncomfortable. She took two steps back and suddenly looked a little fearful. Michonne, of course, noticed.

"Hey." The warrior cooed, as only a true mother could. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She hesitated but finally admitted,"I'm not…asposed to say…"

Now, Michonne was on high alert. She seriously asked, "And why not?"

Sophia couldn't look at her. Instead, she turned and ran back to the farmhouse. Michonne watched her go for a second before flipping around to the barn. The structure now had a menacing feel to it and she clearly didn't approve. Slowly, she unsheathed her sword and held it like her father taught her – both hands on the hilt, feet apart and firmly planted, back straight. She scanned to the right, then left, and back again. Wary of any possible thing, she saw nothing. Michonne took a step forward…

" _Hey_!"

Michonne twirled around, sword up. Across the way, Sophia was standing on the porch, hand over her eyes to shield the sun. They stared at each other for a few seconds. That's when Sophia's eyes widened.

"Don't go in there, Michonne! Herschel will get reaaaaaal maaaaad!"

.


	6. Chapter 6

AN – my thanks to IlovesMeSomeGlee, courtgirl26, LovemesumRick, MissScorp, and Linneagb for your reviews. They really do help.

This chapter is a bit shorter than the others.

And don't hate me because of my plot in this chapter. Rather, just hate me because I'm beautiful or somethin'…

* * *

.

When Michonne was a young girl, her dad realized her potential. Oh, every dad sees their daughter as, "daddy's little girl", but he discovered that she had an aptitude to finish projects. Unlike his sons, Michonne showed interest in what he liked. And that always makes a proud papa a, well, proud papa. He instructed her on the Kaido version of the ancient martial arts, something he was himself. He would guide her on how to use the body and _especially_ the energy of your opponent to express your art and defend yourself. There were times he'd watch her spar with no one there. A soft smile would form on his worn, brown face as he watched her practically dance in the air. Michonne didn't always know he was watching, but she did know that he often approved. That always brought a smile to her face.

But not now. Oh, no. Not now at all. Instead of sparring with a martial arts student or a would-be rapist, Michonne Anthony was killing a walker. And then two. Three. Nine. And the entire time, a guttural, staccato grunt escaped her mouth and body with each kill.

It was as if Michonne had just disappeared. Lost in her world of parry, thrust, yield, attack, and parry again, she danced with her elegant katana as brains, blood, old clothes, and even teeth flew in the air. She wasn't even aware that the others had been running up to her. At least, not until she heard a gunshot.

Whirling behind, she could see that a walker _was_ behind her. But a bullet, provided by Andrea's gun, effectively ended its harrowed life. She was the first one to arrive and could see the panting African American warrior in front of her. But instead of questions and interrogations, another group of _them_ came out of the barn. The women glanced at each other and messages of survival, living, and most importantly, cooperation, were expressed. They put their backs near each other and fought. They fought and fought and fought. Andrea broke the kneecap of one walker and killed it. Michonne sliced another. Maggie and Lori arrived, shooting one lamebrain after another. Daryl's arrow grazed through the air and ended a walker's life, not too far from Carol's head. Rick's reliable .357 magnum blasted through the air with its distinguished sound and nearly everyone was fighting.

Nobody realized Sophia had walked up near them.

As the fighting began to wind down, Herschel had finally arrived, hobbling towards his once-magnificent barn. Shocked as he was, he could see everything unfold before him. And then, crumble his consciousness. Wide-eyed and frozen, Herschel saw that his one hope for science, his one way to help humankind was being effectively taken care of, one by one by one. And he couldn't stop it. He wanted to say something. He didn't even know what he _could_ say. So, the scared, scarred, and sacred man just stood there until he could no longer stand. Herschel sank to his knees just as Beth put her comforting arms on his shoulders.

Guns fired. Her sword swung. Arrows flew. And within one more minute, all of the walkers in the barn had been killed…

Stunned silence filled the air. No one seemed to move at first. The late afternoon sun beat down on them and someone actually sneezed. They all stared at the barn. This once proud structure, home to cows and chickens and hay and tractors and field mowers, now was a coffin – a shell of its past that once provided and stored for the Green family. Gone was its majestic history, replaced with ugly, undignified, and unpleasant memories. Fresh bullet holes dotted the side like an inkblot test near the foundation, floor joists, and siding. Age, weather, and mankind's weaponry was no match for this wooden centenarian that day and all too soon, it creaked like an old man's joints.

And then, it creaked some more. And _then_ , they all heard a child-like scream!

"Look out!" Sophia yelled, pointing at the barn.

The roof was the first to cave in. Gone were the reliable tresses that held it. It folded in on itself like a moldy sandwich and the huge barn doors couldn't take the pressure. Everyone ran back just in time as the sides collapsed. The doors blew outwards, sending shards of dust, hay, wood, and memoirs towards the non-Green members of this group. Andrea and Michonne shielded their eyes from the dust and debris. Carol huddled with Sophia, as Daryl watched them like a guard dog. Rick held his gun in the air for defense for some reason and T-Dogg didn't even move.

Some were crying. Others stared. And within just a few seconds, like the World Trade Center in 2001, the grand Green barn was reduced to rubble and shame.

The dust never really cleared. Instead, there was a fog that hung in the air, like a guilty conscience. Walker corpses, gun residue, perspiration, gasps of air… That's all there was then.

" _What have you done_?!"

Everyone turned to see it was Herschel exclaimed this. Instantly, Michonne and most of the others were confused. Rick angrily marched up to him.

"You had walkers in there?!"

Herschel glared at him. "No! They were _people_! Sick people!"

"The hell they were!" Then, Rick turned to Andrea. "How many times did you shoot that last walker before it dropped dead?"

She thought for a second before quietly saying, "Five."

Rick flipped his head towards Herschel. "What kind of sick person can take five shots?! Huh?! Answer me that!"

Herschel clutched his heart. "I…I don't know. I…I…I don't know…"

Rick threw his hands up in the air and then placed his magnum back in his sheath. Hands on his hips, he looked around, checking to make sure the area was safe and secure, like a cop should. When he seemed satisfied, his eyes fell on Michonne.

There it was again. Their eyes met and the instant look of recognition dawned on their faces. They knew they'd seen each other or met or…something. But neither of them could figure it out.

A sound broke everyone's concentration. Everyone turned to see that a few more planks of wood fell into the barn's dead center. And then, a terrible, terrible sight couldn't be avoided and everyone's heart burst with sorrow.

Herschel was crying. Tears fell like a miser on his face and Beth and Maggie were instantly by his side. In less than ten minutes, his medical mission to save humankind and the prominent structure on his land was gone. Both were just…gone. Brokenhearted, Herschel couldn't focus, letting his pain envelop him. He could feel the kind hands of his daughters on him, but their tears fell on him as well.

"Come on, daddy." Maggie softly said. "Let's get you inside."

He stared at her for a second and immediately thought of her mother. He admired that it would be his daughter and not his wife to always say the right thing. Then again, mothers and daughters can often be one and the same. And Herschel remembered that. And wouldn't forget. He also wouldn't forget who started this whole problem and he turned to glare at Michonne. But he didn't say anything. He just let his pain be so, so evident and the poor woman looked away.

"Daddy?" Beth asked. "You want some tea? Maybe some oat straw tea?"

He hesitantly nodded. Strong daughters on either side of him, they escorted the patriarch back up the gentle to hill as a soft breeze blew by. It was the refreshment their bodies needed in the hot Georgia sun that day and everyone relaxed a little. Within a few seconds, the remnants of the Green family were almost back home, where everything made sense and the ghosts of generations could comfort them.

But it was at this moment that Herschel finally spoke again…

" _I want that woman off my land!_ "

.

"Don't take it too hard."

Michonne looked up. She was sitting on the porch steps and the sun had practically set. Everything she had hoped to accomplish here with this group had been sent to smithereens. And there was nothing she could do about it. Herschel still clung to the old ways of the world and she was powerless to stop it. She couldn't fathom how one of those walkers could be cured. Couldn't he see they weren't human? As much as Herschel was a follower of Jesus Christ, how was _this_ resurrection of the dead what the Lord promised? Nothing made sense to Michonne as she turned to whoever spoke to her.

It was Sophia. Her back was to Michonne and she seemed to be playing with a doll or something. Once again, a very brief smile filled Michonne's face and then vanished. She didn't say anything.

"It sure is hot." Sophia whined.

"Yeah. It is."

Bugs chirped, Ursa Minor shined in the sky, and the sounds of dinner being prepared permeated the air. Michonne glanced to the right and saw where she had dispatched The Boys' lives. She never felt so alone and didn't know where she'd go. She couldn't return to the roaming world like this. Not like this. A tear threatened to fall on her cheek.

"Man!" Sophia whined, wiping her forehead. "It's hot!"

"It's not so bad." Michonne softly replied. Then, she turned to look at the blonde girl. She wasn't holding a doll. Rather, she was holding her arm.

"I think it was Lori who killed Carrie." Sophia said.

"Who?"

"Carrie. She rode the bus with me to school sometimes. Mom and we-"

"You mean, mom and _I_."

"Ummm, OK." Sophia said, shifting towards the warrior. "Mom and I lived just up the road from the Greens. We didn't know them very well until we _had_ to come here. Carrie was a pain the patootie!"

Charmed by that comment, Michonne chuckled. "Yeah? Why?"

Sophia pushed some of her blonde hair past her ear. Neither of them saw the bloodstain on Sophia's finger.

"Because she just was!" Sophia wiped her forehead again. "She was always playing stupid little games on the bus."

"Like what?"

"Well," she toed some dirt by the porch, "she liked to tease me about my mom. You see, my mom used to be a nurse and a darn good one! She was always the best when I'd get hurt playing or when dad would…" She looked away, took a breath, and continued. "Mom had to quit being a nurse. Dad wanted her home." She wistfully smiled. "Mom makes everything feel better. Even when Carrie would bite me. See?"

"You've been bit?" Michonne alarmingly asked.

"Yeah," Sophia casually replied. "Carrie was always a stinker!"

.


	7. Chapter 7

AN – a few reviewers have asked who all is at the farm. I've eliminated mostly male characters here – Dale, Shane, Morgan (who oddly enough wasn't in season two), Jimmy, and Patricia.

* * *

.

" _Hey!_ "

Michonne screamed again and again. Sophia truly looked alarmed and didn't know why she was doing that. Confusion sang on her face as she watched Michonne, now standing, start to head into the farmhouse. By that time, others had come to the porch, aware in this dangerous, new world that exclamations need to be addressed immediately.

It was Maggie and Andrea that arrived first, followed by Rick and then Carol. Michonne just stared at them all for a brief second before slowly pointing at Sophia. The poor girl looked up at all of them with a slightly scared expression on her face and wiped her forehead. That's when they all saw it.

Eyes couldn't have gotten wider. But Carol leaped into action!

"Oh, my baby!" she screamed. She ran up to her and snatched the girl in her arms.

"Mooooom? What are you _doing_?"

But Carol couldn't respond. She rocked her daughter like a momma comforting an infant and didn't say anything. By that point, the others had arrived, including Herschel. Everyone looked at the mother and daughter and didn't move. But a medical professional always knows what to do and Herschel took action.

"Let's get her inside." He said with authority. "I'll treat her there."

"No!" Rick exclaimed. Everyone stared at him with betrayal on their faces.

"Rick!" Lori yelled. "It's Sophia! She's been bit! Herschel can treat her."

Rick stayed silent and couldn't look at anyone. Instead, he stood there helplessly as Herschel, Maggie, and Carol carried the now fever-confused girl into the farmhouse. The others soon followed.

Word quickly spread that Sophia had been bitten by a walker. Predictable events occurred after that. Herschel treated her in his bed, Andrea and Maggie provided sterile gauze and equipment, Daryl vanished, Lori made tea for everyone, Rick stroked the barrel of his .357 Magnum, and Michonne watched from afar. T-Dogg rose from his snoring slumber to make sure the girl was being treated and then went back to sleep. Carl wasn't allowed near the room but peeked in every now and then. And for the rest of the night, it seemed everyone was on pins and needles, like a dentist's waiting room.

Meanwhile, Herschel feverishly worked. He had a scowl on his face.

"I don't understand it." He muttered.

Carol, teary-eyed and close to panic, looked up at him. "What?"

Michonne took a step closer into the room and listened. Rick was behind her with his hand on his gun.

"Her blood…" Herschel said. "This just doesn't make sense."

"What?!" Carol screeched.

He looked up. "Her blood is coagulating."

Sophia squirmed a little in bed, clearly uncomfortable and semi-conscious.

"So?! Isn't that good?"

He glanced at her and could see Rick and Michonne in the doorway. "No. It isn't."

Shakily, she covered her hands over her mouth. "T-tell me!"

Herschel sighed. "Blood can't coagulate. If it thickens, it can't flow. If it can't flow, she can…"

Her eyes widened. "She can _what?!_ "

He didn't answer her. Instead, he found his stethoscope over Sophia's heart again and took the rhythmic beats. After a quick count, he pulled the painful nodes out of his ear and looked her dead in the eye.

"If her blood coagulates anymore, which it shouldn't at all...she'll die."

Carol ran from the room. She didn't even bother to say 'excuse me' when she bumped into Michonne. Rick and Michonne watched her run off, glanced at each other, ignored each other's familiarity, and returned their attention to the bed.

"Can't you give her somethin'?" Rick gently asked.

Herschel looked down. "I've never seen anything act so quickly in the bloodstream before. Her pressure skyrockets and then drops. Her fever is rising. Her pupils can't focus. And now…" He checked her only vital sign left to her, "It's dropping way too fast. The only thing I could give her is aspirin."

And then, he very slowly raised his head and quietly added, "Or morphine. If I only had more time, I could study her and treat her. But the iron in her blood is metastasizing so quickly. I…" He shook his head. "I'm not giving up."

"There is no cure." Rick said, hand stroking the butt of his gun.

"I have to try!"

Michonne intervened and Andrea entered the room. "Rick? Let Herschel try. Maybe there is something-"

"There isn't!" Rick screamed. He threw his hands up in the air.

Andrea sighed and folded her arms across her tight belly. "Is there anything I can do…?"

"No." Herschel said. And then, he got up. "I need to get some antibiotics and antivirals. Some aspirin, more sutures, and some blood test kits." He started to pass them. "And maybe…" He left.

Andrea followed him in the hopes of helping somehow. That left Rick, Michonne, and the poor sick girl. Rick and Michonne glanced at each other and this time, Michonne let her mind wander. She _did_ recognize him and he knew her too. They stared at each other, letting their minds drift towards the emotionally dangerous past. Michonne noticed his hand was still on his gun and that prompted something. Did she know him as a cop? Did she know him in Atlanta? And what was the significance of Rick's gun? Why did his hand on his gun trigger stronger memories?

Simultaneously, as if they were connected, they returned their attention to Sophia. She struggled to function and her breathing became more and more erratic. Soft moans and occasional screams escaped her mouth and instantly, Michonne was by her side. Rick left the room.

"Why…?" she tried and then coughed. At the end of the coughing spell, there was some blood on her tiny hand. "Why is it so hot?"

Michonne held it together. "Because it's summer in Georgia."

"I h-hate it."

Michonne shifted her head and sat on the bed beside her. "I sometimes do too."

Sophia wriggled and despised the bandage on her arm. It was already seeping blood and Michonne avoided it. Instead, she returned her attention to the sick girl. A damp cloth was nearby and she snatched it. Gently, like a mother, she wiped Sophia's forehead and the sick girl looked up.

"Wh-where's m-mom?"

Michonne blinked. "She's outside." And then, she grinned. "I think she's peeing."

Sophia almost smiled but didn't have the energy. Her eyes drooped a couple of times and then closed for several seconds. The warrior with the sword straightened as she stared down at Sophia.

"It's…" the girl muttered, eyes now closed. "It's…c-cold."

Michonne pushed her sword back and reached for the warm covers. Despite the temperature, the girl was chilly and Michonne pulled the thin blanket over the now-shivering sick girl. Sophia shook and Michonne tightly wrapped her like a papoose.

"There. Better?"

All Sophia could do was partially nod. Michonne heard someone return but didn't bother to look. Her entire, maternal focus was now on Sophia.

"I want…" Sophia stopped.

Michonne leaned impossibly closer. "Yeah?"

Sophia went very still and then shook violently. "I want…to…"

The warrior couldn't look at her. "Go ahead, baby."

 _Andre, Andre, Andre, Andre, Andre, Andre._

Sophia finally let her eyes slit open and barely turned to look at her. "I wanna go home."

Michonne's throat tightened. She stared at the girl who suddenly went still. And then, it was obvious that the only thing she could do had to happen, the only maternal thing that was possible in that exact and painful moment.

Michonne hugged Sophia goodbye. She fled the room and Rick put a bullet in her brain.

.

" _You did what?!_ " Carol screamed.

"I had to!" Rick desperately retorted. "I had to! She was gone! She would've come back!"

" _No, she wouldn't! She wasn't bit_!"

Rick shook his head. "I couldn't take that chance!"

Lori intervened. "Did you really have to-" she lowered her voice, "shoot her?"

" _Yes!_ " He hollered.

Carol completely lost it. " _You killed her! You killed her! You motherfucking, cocksucking, fucking, fuck of a fuck! You fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! You killed my babyyyyy! You killed my only babyyyyy!"_ She fell in on herself and Michonne tried to comfort her. Wildly, she shook from Michonne's gentle grasp and ferally glared at her. " _I was her mother! Not you! Not you, you fucking bitch! She was my only dauggggghteeeeer!_ "

Carol could not be reached. Instead, she ran out of the farmhouse and disappeared into the night. Everybody froze after that. The traumatic events in just the last hour paused reality and life. The men couldn't take it and left the room. But Andrea, Maggie, Beth, and Lori all slowly walked into the room and began the centuries-old procedure of preparing a body for a funeral.

The Greens had a family shroud that was used. Sure, Sophia wasn't a Green, but in this new, terrifying world, wasn't Sophia a part of this family? And in the end, it didn't matter. Andrea scooped some of the bedsheets away. Maggie started to clean Sophia's little arms and legs. Lori said a prayer and Beth pushed a gurney into the room. Only Michonne wasn't present. The strong women of this odd, screwed up family took to the funereal task with humility and silence. Sophia was a family member.

Sophia was dead.

Sophia needed honored.

And that would happen.

The whole process only took a half an hour. With so many hands, work can be light, so the cliche-ridden phrase goes. And in that awful, mournful time, that was sorely needed.

Meanwhile, Michonne strolled the grounds of the farm. She circled the farmhouse and could see that some touch-up work was needed. She wasn't exactly a contractor or anything, but even she could see the paint chipping, the foundation's cracks here and there, and the basement windows that needed replaced. Tracing her finger along some aluminum siding, she walked behind the house, forcing her mind to stay in the present. Her sword bounced on her back, a clear reminder that the world had changed. The conundrum pinballed in her brain and she just needed some time to herself.

As she got towards the back of the house, she looked up. The second floor also needed a new paint job and the attic window had a small crack. The moon was full and she could clearly see that even some shingles had wrinkled in the hot, Georgia sun. She partially smiled and scanned the roof. That's when her smile faded.

Carol.

Michonne's eyes widened. "Carol?"

The abused former nurse glanced down at her and didn't say anything. Carol was standing on the roof.

"Carol?" Michonne repeated. "Come down! Please!"

Carol reluctantly smiled and replied, "OK."

And then, Carol jumped to her death.

.


	8. Chapter 8

She wobbled.

Well, no, that's not exactly correct. She ambled along the narrow path, letting her time-honored katana clang on her back, a stark reminder of how much the world changed. She licked her full lips and looked towards the setting sun. Everybody was preparing for the funerals except Michonne. She had agreed to stand on watch against walkers, something Andrea pointed out as a necessity. And it was. The true threat in the world was out there, waiting and preying and marching along to a tune that no one knew. Questions about…everything hung in the air like body odor and no answers were to be found. Instead, she sighed as she adjusted her sword on her shoulders.

She looked west – there, the magnificence of the Georgia sunset stung her eyes a little and she squinted. Who knew what laid beyond the horizon? But there was an ugly task behind her that she couldn't ignore. And as she heard stirring in the house and the screen door squeak open, she knew she had to return to the Green farmhouse.

Duty called.

Numbly, Michonne Anthony turned and ambled back towards the front porch. It was only a little cool and pesky mosquitoes bugged her long hair. A quick shake got rid of them for about ten seconds. And with another sigh, she began the trek up the stairs.

"He thought he could cure them."

Michonne looked up and could see… _Sophia_! The warrior's eyes couldn't have gotten wider! Her jaw dropped as she stared at the girl who appeared healthy but hollow. The blonde girl had a broad smile on her face her hair was brushed and in a ponytail. Nevertheless, Michonne could hardly breathe. She squinted her eyes and automatically reached for her katana.

"Really?" Sophia asked.

No response.

"C'mon, Michonne!"

Again, no response.

Sophia sighed and paced along the stairs. "Did you really think I'd leave?"

Michonne lowered her hand and bravely took a step towards the ghost. "What…?"

Sophia giggled. "See? I'm all better now!" She extended her arms and twirled in the air. And with one final girlish, innocent laugh, Sophia vanished only to be replaced by Andrea coming from the front door. Michonne's face was frozen in shock and Andrea quickly noticed.

"What's wrong?" Andrea asked, coming to a stop at the edge of the porch.

Michonne shook her head a little and replied, "Nothing."

Andrea put her hands on her hips and muttered, "We're ready."

Within a few seconds, the dark procession had begun. The men carried Carol's body first. Then, the women carried Sophia. Both women just looked broken in their corpse-state. No one was crying. No one was speaking. They ignored Michonne as they passed her and walked towards the dilapidated barn. Only Herschel acknowledged her was he passed. He produced a short nod as he walked. Michonne surmised he would be conducting the service and she was right. Herschel was a man of God, whatever that meant during these dark days.

The sun had nearly set. Everyone, including Michonne, was about thirty yards beyond the crushed barn. Two shallow graves were assembled and everyone had a large rock in their hands. The bodies were carefully deposited in their new, earthy homes, and Michonne was surprised Sophia and Carol's faces weren't covered. And yet, here they were, about to be buried in God's earth, ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Herschel opened his Bible.

"Our Lord, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come.."

Here, Herschel paused. Michonne glanced at him, as did Maggie, Lori, Andrea, and even Daryl, who hung about in the back of the group. It wasn't like Herschel to stop here and no one knew why. Finally, he closed his Bible and covered his eyes.

"Oh God!" He suddenly screamed. "Why have you forsaken us?! You promised us a resurrection of the dead, but why this? Why this? _Why this?!_ "

He broke down. His daughters were there to instantly soothe him but it did little good. As Maggie and Beth pulled him away from the gravesite, he dropped his Bible. And he never retrieved it.

Michonne suddenly spoke. "We all loved…So-Sophia and C-Carol."

Every single person just stared at her, including Herschel. They all knew Michonne was telling the truth, but the fact that this newbie, this interloper would say something, _anything_ , so simple and profound completely stunned them. And in that ugly, tense moment, everyone simply returned to the graves. Rick suddenly grabbed a shovel and began the laborious task of filling them in with dirt.

"Wait…" Lori muttered. Rick did just that and stared at her. She turned to the others in the group and her eyes fell on Andrea. A sort of agreement was passed between them and Andrea nodded. The two women approached the graves with determination. That's when they pulled out something from their back pockets…

Lori – a stethoscope.

Andrea – a spelling book.

Each were laid with their respective owners and a moment of awkward, tense, ugly, and utterly sad silence passed. Then they walked back and finally, _finally_ let the tears come. Rick and Daryl began filling the graves and one-by-one nearly everyone dispersed back to the farmhouse, back to the future.

Except Michonne. She watched the corpses slowly disappear as the dirt brushed along Carol's arm or Sophia's throat. It was almost dark and the men continued to work. Daryl was finished covering Carol's body and he looked about him. Satisfied that no one was watching, he placed a beer bottle at the head of her grave. And sticking out of the brown bottle, was a tall Cherokee Rose. Without another word, Daryl turned and walked away.

By that time, it was just Rick and Michonne at the site. He was almost done with the task and took a moment to rest. Panting a little, he stared off into the fields and Michonne watched nothing. She stared off into space a little and could've sworn that she saw a little blonde girl watching from afar. But after she blinked her eyes, she didn't see anything. So she shrugged it off.

And when she looked back, Rick was staring at her. "I know you."

Michonne blinked. Twice. "I know you too…somehow."

They didn't say anything after that for a while. Instead, Rick just got back to work. And within just a few minutes, he tapped the dirt with his spade and placed a heavy rock over it to keep the dirt down. It was funny – it's an old tradition to place a rock on top of the grave just for that purpose and nearly everyone had one. But only Rick did this. Everyone else just dropped theirs.

It was then dark. There was no breeze to speak of and yet, Michonne flipped back some of her gorgeous braids, mainly out of habit. Rick took a swig of water from his bottle and realized it was abruptly empty. And when he looked around for his spare, he saw a fresh bottle thrust in front of him.

"Here." Michonne said.

He stared at it and then took it. "Thanks."

Michonne watched this man suck the water down his long neck. Little dribbles fell down his chin and made his dirty shirt stick to his sculpted chest. She could see the muscles in his throat work to drink and his arms with slack with satisfaction. His thirst had been quenched and she could see his pectorals and nipples through his wet t-shirt. Abruptly, she looked away.

When he was done, he looked back at the graves.

"I can't believe he thought he could cure them." He muttered.

"Who?" Michonne asked. "The walkers?"

"Yeah…" Then, he morosely added, "There is no cure."

She narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"

"Positive." He looked up at her and noticed her full breasts. "We were at the CDC. It's gone now. A crazy doctor said there's no cure and he told me…"

"Told you what?" she asked, placing her hands on her long hips.

He shook his head and didn't answer. Michonne took two long steps and was hostilely in his face! "Told you _what?_ "

He stared into her brown eyes, noting how strong and tough she truly was. Michonne too was transfixed by her eyes and just breathed into her face. Finally, he answered, as he stared at her full lips.

"Whatever it is…" he softly began, "…we're all infected."

Floodgates opened in her mind. Her eyes widened and she automatically took a step back. He watched the shock in her face gradually turn into something akin to an inhuman kind of something. Something scared and alone. Something…

Recognition.

"I haven't told them yet." Rick said, indicating the others in the farmhouse. "I just wasn't sure that crackpot of a doctor was right."

"He was…" Michonne said. And without warning, she turned towards the house. As she did, she saw Rick's trusty .357 magnum hanging on his belt. Again, that gun. It was so familiar… And when he didn't or couldn't or even wouldn't say another word, she walked back towards the farmhouse.

Her stroll was methodical and deliberate. Now what did the future hold? And would she be welcome to it? Behind her, she could hear the shovel being dragged on the ground and knew that Rick was following her back to the farmhouse. She didn't care. Instead, she arrived at the house and entered it like it was her own.

Everyone was silent. T-Dogg was playing solitaire and the other men were just staring off into space. But the women were busy doing something. A farmhouse, even in apocalyptic times, needs work. Only Andrea acknowledged Michonne's arrival with a partial smile. The warrior walked through the dining room and into a short hallway. There was a water closet that had, at one time, been fully functional. And a new sewer system had been installed that enabled the toilet to work. So, after she turned on the light, Michonne Anthony closed the door, sat down on the toilet, and covered her face with her hands.

That's when the tears came. _Oh God_ , she thought. _Oh God, oh God, oh Gooooood!_ She wept – over and over the tears streamed out and she choked on them. Michonne placed a hand over her heart while the other still covered her mouth as guffaws of pure agony escaped her throat. She could hardly breathe. She could hardly think. Instead, she could only suffer in a way a woman, a mother, a caretaker, a truly compassionate person can only feel…

Agony.

She hiked her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. Michonne so badly wanted to cry out, to scream, to destroy the bathroom, to kill every last motherfucking walker in the whole fucking _world!_ But she couldn't. All she could do was sit there and cry. And cry. And cry.

"You know him, don't you?"

She flipped her head up and stared at Sophia's ghost. Once again, the girl looked in perfect health and was smiling. Michonne wiped her eyes and just watched her. She let her feet connect with the floor and once again, her hand automatically reached for her katana.

"Again?" Sophia said. She shook her head. "You don't have to. I'm happy! Oh! And he's fine, you know."

Michonne only relaxed a little. "What?"

"I _said_ , he's fine! Geez, get the cotton out of your ears!" Then, the ghost giggled. "I know how spunky you are!"

 _Spunky._ That word, that one all-consuming adjective hung in her ears and reverberated like Notre Dame. Michonne's eyes were locked as she wanted and needed to know more and more and more! A mixture of relief, sadness, surprise, and more relief coursed through the warrior as she stared at Sophia. Of course, the girl just had to giggle.

"Sp-spunky…" Michonne murmured.

"Yeah!" Sophia said, jumping through a claw-foot bathtub. "That's the word he used!"

"O-only m-my…" her lips trembled. "O-only my…s-son would know that...to me."

The ghost turned her head and grinned. "I know."

Sophia vanished. Michonne blinked. And a knock could be heard.

The warrior forced herself to recover, wiped her face, and approached the door. When she opened it, there stood Andrea, staring at her with instant concern.

"C'mon." Andrea began. "Dinner's ready."

But Michonne was energized! "I know!"

"What?"

"I _know_!" Michonne exclaimed. She was far from happy but not angry. Instead, she had a fierce look of determination on her face. "I know now! And I know why Rick is so familiar to me!"

Andrea stared at her. "Why?"

In response, Michonne Anthony stabilized her katana on her back and marched around the beautiful blonde woman. And when she did, she could see a few other women watching her.

"Where's Rick?!" she asked.

.


	9. Chapter 9

"Carol was right! You are a fucking fuck of a fuck!"

Everybody froze. Michonne had barely finished her tirade before she started in again, spewing epithets that made nearly everyone blush. No one had ever seen her temper before but there it was – launched and in full force. And it was all directed at Rick Grimes.

"Calm down." Rick patiently said.

Michonne lost it! "The hell I will!" That's when she reached for her katana. Rick went for his gun. And gasps filled the room.

"Just…" Rick stammered. "Just hold on. Hold on, Michonne."

"Michonne?" Herschel calmly asked. "Please. What's wrong?"

She glanced at him, keenly aware of his threat to her. "You still gonna kick me out?!"

"Not at the moment."

She returned her attention to the cop. "I remember you, you son of a bitch!" She dropped her hand from her sword. She venomously added, "And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you live for very much longer."

Everyone was now on high alert. Most of the men stood up but the women seemed to encircle the embattled warrior. Carl cowered away and she didn't even notice.

"Michonne," Andrea began, "what is going on?"

"I'll tell you what is going on!" She said. Firmly, she planted her feet on the floor and glared holes into Rick's skull. " _You!_ You killed my son!"

One-by-one, eyes fell on Rick and he simply seemed shocked. "I don't even know you! I don't even-!"

"Yes, you do!" she screamed. "Yes, you fucking do! I remember who you are! You killed my son!" The first of the tears threatened her chestnut eyes but she forced them back. "You were in Atlanta!"

Rick thought for a second and hesitantly said, "Yeah?"

"And you were on Decatur Street!"

Again, Rick rifled through his memory banks and repeated, "Yeah?"

"You was on that fucking horse!"

"That's right."

"And you ran into that tank!"

Rick shook his head. "Michonne, what are you-?"

 _"What did you do after that?!"_

Now, in that moment, none of the group wanted to remember the past. But as aggressive and interrogative as Michonne was, Rick didn't have a choice. So, he had to remember. The tank… The walker inside… The escape with Glenn… Meeting Andrea… The manic chase from the department store… The walker child who reached for him and tried-

His eyes widened.

"Yeah!" Michonne screamed. "Yeah, you fucker! You killed my son!"

"I killed a walker!"

" _He was only two years old!"_

"I had no choice! There's no cure!"

" _You didn't know that then! That's what you were told at the fucking CDC!"_

Michonne finally pulled her sword from her scabbard. She held it as a chorus of oohs! and ahhs! filled the room. Not only had Michonne threatened him, but the idea that there was no cure rocked everyone there. Rick reached for his trusty .357 Magnum and Michonne noticed.

Abruptly, Michonne went quiet. "And that was the gun you used…"

Rick swallowed. "I _had_ no choice. It could crawl and kill one of us."

"He was just a _child!_ "

"He was a _walker!_ "

"He was my baaaaabyyyyy!"

Her lips quivered. Her arms shook. And her martial arts father would've been very disappointed with her when she dropped her katana. Unable or unwilling to do anything else with the fight, Michonne fled the room and ran to the front porch.

There, she marched to the end of the porch and came to a complete standstill. A weird numbness filled her body and a sharp, piercing sound could be heard in her mind. The sound of fury and sadness that only parents who have experienced terrible loss or horror can truly understand. She stared in a stupor into the nighttime sky, hating everything about it – the fact that the sky at night never changed. The rest of the world did. And there was no going back.

The walking dead had taken over.

Still though, she stood there, frozen in a world that was so unfair, so cold. That's when she took a deep breath, stared at the well they saved Glenn from, took another deep breath…and collapsed in a broken heap.

The tears waterfalled. Heavy, heaving, helpless cries escaped her throat and all of the anguish that welled deep, deep inside her crushed out of her. She choked and swallowed and breathed and choked and folded her arms and choked some more. In the recesses of her hearing, she heard the screen door open and close and didn't pay it any attention. Sitting down, her knees were hiked up and her elbows rested on them. She sat there like a lost three-year-old at the mall and cried and cried.

"Here."

She looked up. Presented to her was a cup of what was probably mint tea. Michonne took it and looked up into the kind eyes of Andrea. Behind her was Maggie, Beth, and Lori. Within a second, Michonne heard soft footsteps and in just a few seconds, the women had cocooned Michonne. They sat around her as if there was a campfire in the middle. Beth and Maggie took the lower steps, Lori was to Michonne's right, and Andrea to her left.

The crying didn't exactly stop. The cup shook in her hand. Andrea removed it and set it down. The women all sat in silence and simply waited. There was nothing they could do and like all supportive people should, they just watched and hung around. No one wants to see suffering, but when you can't do anything to stop it, just being present can speak volumes for support. And survival.

"Better?" Andrea softly asked.

Michonne sniffed. "Y-yeah."

Lori shifted a little towards her. "I remember when I first met Rick."

Michonne didn't respond. So, Lori continued.

"I was an arrogant elementary school teacher." Lori began. "I was single and I was dating this…lowlife jerk. He was abusive, you know? I don't know why I stuck with him. I just did. Well, one time, this jerk…his name was Merle…was bein' real nasty one day at the Summer Beer Festival."

Here, Lori paused. A few in the group had heard of this festival and politely smiled. The Atlanta Beer Festival is a fun time for all, until alcohol can take things too far.

"Anyway," Lori continued, "this handsome police officer was helping a little ol' lady across the street."

Andrea snickered. "Really? That's so cliché!"

"I know, right? Anyway, he was really doin' that, like what you'd see in Andy Griffith or somethin'." And then, Lori's voice softened. "But he was so kind, so protective. I watched him like…like…" She looked Michonne dead in the eye. "Like he was the breath of fresh air that I needed. He almost tripped on the sidewalk when he got her to the other side, but there it was."

"There what was?" Michonne whispered, wiping the last of her tears away.

"Proof positive that there are good men in this world. Rick is a good man. He doesn't do things without thinkin' about them first. And Atlanta got bad. I mean, real bad…"

Michonne didn't have to ask for clarification about that. She clearly remembered the dead surrounding her city, then her suburb, then her neighborhood, and _then_ , her very own front door.

"I just can't picture it." Andrea muttered.

"What?" Maggie asked, plucking a weed from the steps and playing with it.

"Rick doing that."

"Why not?" Lori asked with just a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"Oh, not like that." Andrea reassuringly said. "I mean, what I've seen that man do and accomplish with us…" she shook her head. "I haven't seen that side of him before. I guess I just never thought I ever would."

"Well, nowaways," Lori said, "you probably won't. There won't be very many old ladies crossing streets anymore."

"That's for sure." Maggie said. Then, she turned her attention to Michonne. "Rick must've done what he did when he had no choice. Lori's right. Rick's a good man. He doesn't want harm. Only good."

 _Only good._ That phrase is a double-edged nightmare. There have been many times in history when things were done for the greater good, but defining what that is, isn't easy. And it can be manipulated. And devastating. Or wonderful.

Andrea pushed the cup over to Michonne. "Drink it. It'll help the nerves."

Michonne glanced at it. She could see Andrea's fingers as she held the cup. At one time, Andrea probably had them manicured and painted. There was a softness to them, replaced by cuts and little worklines that showed how much the world changed. Andrea noticed she was staring at her fingers and chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess I don't have to wear nail polish anymore."

Michonne then whispered, "Girls' night out."

Everyone appreciatively laughed. And Michonne almost smiled. Almost.

"Tomorrow, why don't we do somethin'!" Beth said. Leave it to the youngest in the group to think of entertainment rather than necessary work. Nevertheless, the idea had an appeal and everyone stared at her. Beth noticed. "Well, Michonne said it! Girls' night out! What about a day?"

"Ya know what?" Maggie said. "That's not a bad idea."

"Yeah!" Beth enthusiastically said. And then she whispered, "I could get daddy's keys to the car and we can go cruising!"

"We could find some bourbon somewhere for mint juleps." Andrea supplied.

"Drug stores might have some painkillers." Lori said. Everyone was surprised by that and stared at her. "What? I'm in pain!" The girls just giggled.

"We can find some walkers and do some target practice." Maggie said.

"Hell, let's find _a lot_ of those things and get us some shootin' time!" Beth added.

"I like where this is headed!"

"What time tomorrow?"

"What should we bring?"

"Don't tell the boys! No boys allowed!"

"I've never been in a bar. Let's find one!"

"I want some new clothes!"

Soon, the conversation centered solely on the chatter of the fun-filled "shopping" day the next day would bring. Michonne sat there, taking it all in. She was surrounded by women who wanted to bring happiness into their lives, even if it was considered petty theft in the old days. She looked around, noting Beth's girlish grin, Andrea's fun devilishness, Maggie's boisterous laugh, and even Lori's odd mixture of responsibility and playfulness. And a girls' day did sound fun. She never thought she'd experience it again, after Atlanta fell. After everything fell. And especially after her son Andre fell ill and was shot by Rick.

As the women clamored on, the screen door could be heard opening and closing. But the girls were too preoccupied about planning their adventure (Andrea deemed it the Estrogen Fair) to really notice. But Michonne did.

She looked up. Rick had appeared and momentarily stared at her. And then, silently, he dropped his head and strolled towards the other end of the house. And without a word, Michonne realized what she had to do. So as the women planned the Estrogen Fair, she slowly got up, excused herself with a polite smile, and followed the leader of their group.

She found him on the other side of the porch. Shrouded in darkness, she could see the outline of his body – tight, firm and confident. She didn't hide the fact that she was there and he knew she was. Michonne slowly walked up and stood beside him. Rick stared off into the nighttime sky, studying the Big Dipper and possibly Sirius. Michonne followed his line of sight and watched as well. So, there they were – two warriors, fishing in the nighttime sky without a real lure to speak of.

"I'm sorry." Rick whispered.

Michonne looked down and noticed that his hands were shaking a little. He gripped the side of the porch like a life preserver and he couldn't really let go. That's when, with only a half a smile on her face, she gently touched his pinkie.

"I know… I know…" she said.

.


	10. Chapter 10

AN – the song used here is "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" (Cyndi Lauper version). And I apologize if I got some of the makeup terminology wrong. I'm not a makeup guy.

.

It began with an argument.

"Look," Andrea began, "I just want to make sure we're still alive here!"

"But it's dangerous!" Rick said.

"We know that, Rick." Michonne patiently said. "But we want to do this and…" she glanced at the other women, then back to Rick, and defiantly added, "we're gonna do this."

Rick scowled, letting his hand rest on his hip, above his .357 Magnum. He realized that it wasn't getting him anywhere and he didn't like what he was confronted with. He glanced at his wife, who hadn't said a word. But she did shrug as if to say, it's out of your hands, Rick. Realizing defeat of sorts, he knew he wasn't going to get around this and considered his options. He saw Daryl watching the conversation from the wings of the room.

"Make sure the truck is gassed up and oiled." Rick ordered.

"Ya' got it." Daryl replied. He immediately left.

Then Rick turned back to the group. "Take a radio with you."

"We will." Lori compassionately said. "And we'll use it at the first sign of trouble."

"Where are you headed?" Rick asked.

"We don't know." Maggie said. "Probably just into town. There's gotta be some more stuff there for us to use."

"I thought," Beth chimed, "that we were going to…" She trailed off.

"Yes?" Rick asked.

She shook her head. "Nuthin'…"

He scowled. "I don't know what's promptin' this, but…" He glanced out the window and could see Carol and Sophia's graves. "looks like I ain't stoppin' ya'."

"That's right." Lori said with half a smile. "Good boy."

He partially glared at her and he would not smile. No, he would not smile. No dammit, he would not smile. Instead, he just turned and walked away with a little huff. As he did, he passed Carl and put a hand on his hair, ruffling it up a little. But boy smiled and watched him go. Then Carl turned to the women in the dining room and looked them over. Beth was smiling at him and Michonne was looking at the graves. Only Lori squatted down to eye level and encouraged him to come to her. But he didn't.

"Can I come?" Carl asked.

"Ummm, sorry honey." She soothingly said. "This is just for the girls."

He looked confused. "Why?"

She stood back up. "Well…we girls sometimes need a day to ourselves. You'll be safe and fine here with your dad and the others."

That's when T-Dogg showed up from behind and addressed him. "Yeah, we can take some of that wood from the barn and break it up for firewood."

The barn. Memories of what happened crashed their minds and T-Dogg didn't even notice. Instead, he just turned to the women and produced that broad, almost giddy smile.

"Ya'll goin' to town?" he asked.

"Yeah." Andrea said.

"Get me some Hennessy." He said with a cheeky grin.

The women smiled but didn't say anything. Instead, he took that as his cue and steered the boy away from them. And when the sound of the screen door shutting could be heard, Michonne turned to her fellow, female survivors.

"Looks like the Estrogen Fair is on."

Every single woman smiled. Lori, finally able to relax, turned to the others. "Alright. Let's get our handguns, some water, and…" She took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. "some sandwiches."

"You alright?" Maggie asked.

Lori stroked her stomach. "Oh, that soup didn't exactly agree with me this morning."

"I think we have some antacids upstairs."

Lori smiled. "I think I'll be alright but I'll grab some."

"OK!"

And with that, the great Estrogen Fair had begun.  
.

It was actually a short drive. The little nearby town was basically in ruins. Every single door was either bashed in or completely intact. Windows were smashed, debris strewn everywhere and the fellow Georgians wandered aimlessly at first. Securing the little town was first and foremost in their minds and yes, a few walkers had to be dispatched. Other than that, the town was basically theirs. Maggie and Beth approached a gas station. After it was secure, Beth found the one thing, the surest item that would be pleasure to their meager lives.

AA batteries.

She put them in the jukebox and the Estrogen Fair had officially begun…

The phone rings in the middle of the night  
My father yells, "What you gonna do with your life?"  
Oh daddy dear, you know you're still number one  
But girls, they wanna have fun  
Oh girls just want to have fuuuun!

The '80s boombox blasted the classic and at first, Michonne was worried the sound would draw walkers. But after seeing Andrea, Lori, Maggie, Beth, and even herself (a little) wiggling their hips to the silly classic, why, Michonne didn't even bother to question it. Soon, the women was bouncing around the streets, ignoring this crosswalk or that stoplight, slapping "Ped Xing" signs along the way.

The song ended and "Dancing in The Street" came on. The women partially split up as was expected. Lori found some antacids at a drugstore and Andrea almost stepped on a pair of pilot sunglasses before slipping them on. Maggie was helping Beth apply some foundation as they sipped some whiskey from a nearby bar. And Michonne? Well…she found her own happiness.

There was a tiny restaurant that Lori would not enter. Michonne didn't know why but she figured there was some kind of memory attached to it. So Michonne ignored it. In the end, she found something that was sorely needed. Of course it wasn't food, fresh water, batteries, or firewood. Nope. Instead, it was a stuffed, rainbow-colored elephant. When she emerged from the restaurant, she saw Andrea staring at her.

"What?" Michonne asked. And then, she almost grinned. "It's for Carl."

"Uh huh." Andrea said with a smile.

 _That_ time, Michonne Anthony smiled. Andrea was in awe of the site and took a step closer to her.

"You know," Andrea began, "you really are beautiful."

"Oh, bullshit."

"No, I mean that. You've got a booty for days and your smile brightens your face."

Michonne began walking towards the drugstore. "You…you think so?"

Andrea kept in pace. "Yeah. I do. I really do." And then, an idea hit her. "In fact, I'll bet some rouge blended with a nice palette would really bring out your eyes."

Michonne looked down, trying to ignore the katana bouncing on her back. "So, you think makeup is what we should do…now?"

Andrea shrugged. "Why not? That's what Beth and Maggie are doing." Then, she spread her arms and spun once. "We have the wholllllllle town to ourselves. Let's have some fun!"

The warrior giggled for just a brief moment and reluctantly shook her head. "Alright."

By that time, they arrived at the drugstore and saw that Beth and Maggie were laughing. It was a glorious sound that filled the dusty, moldy room that wonderful afternoon. Michonne thought their laughter sounded like singing and was completely foreign to their world. But it was absolutely appropriate. Laughter was in short supply and everyone needs to laugh.

Of course, Beth and Maggie was laughing a bit _too_ much. Michonne spied the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and knowingly grinned. Lori was applying a rather smart looking lipstick that had an earthy color and everyone was in their element. Andrea guided Michonne over towards the drunken sisters and came to a stop near them.

"I have another victim for you!" Andrea cheekily announced.

When they looked up, Michonne could see the glassy look in their eyes and stifled another laugh. But Beth was encouraged!

"Oh yeaaaaah!" she all but screamed. "Yeah! Michonne you would look great with some eyelashes and toner." And then, she covered her mouth. "I mean, you'd look great. I mean, you'd look great… _er_! I mean-"

"I get it."

Beth breathed. "Oh good. Can't believe this whiskey hit me so fast!"

"Maybe we should have some sandwiches." Andrea suggested.

"Oh, fuck that!" Maggie exclaimed. "Let's all do a shot!"

Well, when in Rome. All but Lori took a healthy swig from the black-labeled bottle and within just a few minutes, the axis in Michonne's vision began to tilt. But that's when something terrible happened.

"We're out…" Beth muttered, tipping the empty whiskey bottle upside down.

"Isn't there a bar," Michonne quietly began, "just up the road?"

And that was all it took. Eyes went wide again and everyone got excited. But Michonne wasn't that drunk yet and she knew that the bar hadn't exactly been explored for any danger. So, she approached Lori.

"They want another bottle of whiskey." Michonne said to her.

"Uh huh. You do too." Lori said, perusing a three-month old magazine. She was seated on the counter of the drugstore.

"Well, I suppose."

Lori smiled. "So, go for it."

"We need to make sure the bar is clear of walkers and they're already drunk."

Lori understood. "Ah. I see. Alright." She hopped down and immediately groaned at the pain in her stomach.

"Need more antacids?" Michonne offered.

"Yeah, I think so. I must not like Carol's soup recipe. There's…"

 _Carol_. Both Michonne and Lori froze. The party atmosphere was still there, but the harsh reminder of this new world hung all around them. At least it was only for an instant. Young, feminine giggles brought the other two out of their reverie and duty called.

"Let's just go." Lori muttered.

"Alright."

They left and didn't even tell Beth or Maggie where they were going. But that didn't matter. A small argument about color schemes broke out between them as they left.

Meanwhile, Michonne and Lori strolled the two-block walk to the nearest bar. In fact, it was the only bar in that little Georgian town. The sun beat down on them and there was no breeze to speak of. Without much need for conversation, they strolled soundlessly, looking left to right and back again. Sure, the town had been cleared of the few walkers that were there, but a new threat could always pop up. Regardless, the journey was uneventful, they inspected the bar, which was clear of danger, and approached the bar.

But when they did, Lori plopped in a barstool, her hand holding her head up. Michonne grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar, turned to leave and then stopped. Well, one just wouldn't do. She found another bottle…and then another… And then they would probably need some gin. So she grabbed a bottle of that. And why not some rum?

She grinned as her arms were completely full. But when Michonne turned around to leave, she saw Lori in severe pain. Concerned, she approached Rick's wife.

"You alright?" Michonne asked.

But Lori didn't answer right away. She rubbed her belly back and forth and back and forth. Nothing seemed to work. That's when Michonne could see that Lori was actually stroking her abdomen and was grimacing even more.

"Y-yeah…I think so." Lori muttered.

"Antacids not working?"

But Lori finally looked up at her. Michonne could see that Lori was immediately pale.

"I don't think I should have any more antacids."

Arms still full of alcohol, Michonne softly asked, "Why not?"

"Two months."

"What?"

"We've been here two months."

Michonne was confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

A dawning realizing hit Lori's face. She looked away and immediately frowned. And when she finally looked back at the fierce, female warrior, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I haven't had my period in two months."

Michonne dropped every single bottle of alcohol in her hands.

.


	11. Chapter 11

Meanwhile…

.

"Dad?" Carl asked.

"What?" Rick responded, shoving a spade into the garden.

"What's a pussy?"

Rick came to a complete, total, nerve-wracking, earth-shattering, bankrupted stop. Of all the questions that could've come out of his son's mouth, that was one that he didn't expect. Now that the dead had taken over the world, questions like this weren't exactly par for the course anymore. So he looked at his son and realized that they hadn't done the one thing that all fathers should do, the rite of passage that no man wants to take…

The Talk.

Rick rested the blade's end on the ground and then propped his elbow on the end. "Well, some think it's a cat."

Carl just looked confused and looked up at him. Rick couldn't help but grin a little. He knew where his son was headed with this question, but he had to be sure. After all, this is one of the most uncomfortable conversations a man will _ever_ have to make.

"Well, Carl…" he slowly began, "it's not a nice word."

"It isn't?" the boy asked, tilting his King County Sheriff's hat on his head. "Why?"

Rick cleared his throat. "Ummm, you see, you have to realize… No, this won't do." He squatted down to Carl's level, ignoring the ruffled denim scrunching his already hot knees. "You see… That's a word for a woman's…private parts."

"Oh!" Carl enthusiastically said. "You mean like a vagina?"

With surprised eyes, Rick smiled. "Yeah, that's right. But don't say that word around your mom."

"What? Vagina?"

"No, Carl. I mean pussy."

"Well…" Carl toed some of the dirt alongside his dad. "

"Well, what?"

Carl sighed. "I heard T-Dogg talk about getting' some puss-"

"Don't use that word, Carl."

"But I just wanna know! I won't say it again." He grabbed an onion bulb from the ground and threw it in a basket. "Does it…feel good?"

Rick looked away and partially rolled his eyes. Then, he looked back. "Ummm, yeah. It does." He looked his son over and realized that he couldn't avoid The Talk any longer. "OK, Carl. I'll level with ya'. Yes, sex with a woman feels good. You have to be careful with it though."

"Why?"

"Because you just do."

"Why?"

"Because you can get a girl pregnant or get diseases."

"Why?"

"Because when you…" he waved his arms in the air a bit, "when you…do _that_ you can…" Rick scratched his head and unnecessarily cleared his throat, "f-finish. And then when you do, she can get pregnant. Or you could get a nasty STD."

"What's that?"

"Carl, let's finish the garden and then we'll talk."

The boy was hardly satisfied. But realizing he wasn't getting anywhere, he obeyed his dad's wishes. He poked his little fingers into the earth and pulled out again. Then in. Then out. He repeated this over and over and Rick was clearly getting uncomfortable with the sight, especially with what was just discussed.

"Just get the onions, Carl. And the radishes."

"I hate radishes."

Rick chuckled. "I do too, son. I do too."

They worked steadily in the hot afternoon sun. Relieved of his fatherly duties, Rick resumed the task of tilling soil to rid the garden of weeds and ease of picking crops. He watched his son work and ignored the sweat beads that dotted their bodies. There's always work that needs to be done on a farm and Rick guided his son to do just that. Work is work and you don't complain.

That's farmlife.

A lone truck could be heard coming up the road. The silence and stillness of that harsh world made any unnatural noise stick out above the rest and Rick turned to see the women were coming back from their day out. Andrea was driving and she steered the old Ford near the porch and threw it into park. Carl too watched as the women filed out. The Green sisters walked a little crooked and Rick couldn't help but smile. But Carl kept his eyes on Beth. Of course, Rick noticed.

"You like her?" Rick asked.

Carl immediately looked down. "I don't know…"

Rick grinned and resumed watching them get out. He found his wife, who had a tight smile on her face.

"Have fun?" Rick asked.

"Yeah." She said. "Yeah, we did."

She immediately walked past him. She ruffled her son's hair and silently walked into the farmhouse. He was dismayed at her quietness but quickly surmised she might be a little drunk. He didn't exactly like that possibility and tried his best to let it go. That's when he heard Michonne walk up to him. He turned to look at her and his smile immediately fell. She did not look happy.

"Everything go OK?" he asked.

"Yeah… Yeah…"

Rick's eyes narrowed. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Michonne blinked. Twice. "N-no. I'm good. Where's Lori?"

"She's in the house."

"I'll go check on her." She started to leave but felt Rick's firm hand on her forearm.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

Michonne, still in Rick's cop grasp, didn't respond right away. Instead, she compassionately looked at him and said, "That's not my tea to spill."

Alarmed, Rick let go and blasted into the farmhouse! He raced throughout the structure, running from room to room. "Lori?! Lori?!"

"In here." He weakly heard.

There she was standing in the kitchen. Beside Lori was Andrea, who's hands covered her mouth. What had once been a celebration of unified women quickly became something more serious. The beautiful blonde stared at Lori in total shock and then saw Rick enter the room.

"Andrea?" Rick said, approaching them, "Will you excuse us please?"

Andrea looked back at Lori.

"It's OK, Andrea." Lori said. "Just please…do what I asked."

Andrea was near tears. "Are you s-sure?"

"I am." Lori confidently said. "It has to be this way."

Rick watched the exchange and very clearly did not like it. Andrea touched Lori's wrist in support and dutifully left the kitchen. They would've heard her leave the house and start the truck back up, but they were too consumed with each other at the moment. And neither Rick or Lori knew that Michonne was just outside the kitchen, watching them protectively.

"What's going on?" Rick asked.

As if on cue, a sharp cramp hit Lori and she came close to doubling over. Immediately, Rick was at her side and guided her to the kitchen table. After she sat down, she rested her elbow on the table and propped her hand on her head. He didn't like what he was seeing, obviously, and Michonne didn't either.

Lori wiped her face with her hand and abruptly said, "I'm pregnant."

And there it was. No hesitation, no softening the blow, no beating around the bush. Just the facts, ma'am, and there was nothing to slow her down. But Rick just stared at her, unable or unwilling to speak. They were already a family and discussions about having a second child hadn't really entered their minds. But there it was – the truest spoken words in the English language and there was no political twist to this. Lori was pregnant.

"Are you…sure?"

Lori sighed. "I'm cramping up just like with Carl. And I haven't had my period since we got here."

Rick did the math in his head. And like many men, he didn't know what to say in this moment. So, he got up and started pacing around the room. Resting his hands on his hips but above his .357 Magnum, he finally came to a stop and turned to face her.

"This doesn't change anything." He flatly said.

She looked up at him and bleakly replied. "It doesn't?"

"No. Not at all. We deal with this the way we did-"

"The last time?" she asked. "Don't you remember what happened with Carl?"

Michonne realized she was probably intruding on a conversation that she shouldn't. But this discussion couldn't be stopped and she realized a pregnancy could seriously complicate, well, everything.

"What do you mean?" Rick asked.

"Carl was a C-Section. And the last time I checked, the nearest hospital burned down and there are no doctors anymore."

"Hershel's a doctor."

"Rick…" Lori said with strained patience. "He's a veterinarian, not an obstetrician. If he has to cut me open, how would I survive that? Or the baby? Is that really fair to the baby?"

Rick's mouth tightened. "We'll deal with it. We can handle it."

"We?" she defiantly asked. "I think you mean _me_. And when this baby is born, don't you see this as a problem?"

"We can handle it." He repeated.

"Babies cry, Rick!" she yelled, standing up. "Walkers will hear and put us in danger. And what if a herd comes through and we're forced on the road? And we won't be able to immunize the baby and we don't even know how much longer _we have_!"

Rick's voice grew soft. "What are you suggesting?"

"I…" she huffed. "I don't know." She sat back down. "I mean…I _want_ to have this baby." Then, she dreamily whispered. "I've always wanted a daughter. I want to be able to dress her up in silly clothes and do that obnoxious family photo thing at Wal-Mart. I could see her on your knee, bouncing up and down and giggling. I'd take a photo of you with her and you'd be annoyed by that…or at least pretend to be. She'd go to school and I'd help her get on the bus for the first time. I'd say to her, 'now, be brave little Judith and learn well'. We'd see her grow up and become a strong teenager." Then, she giggled a little. "She'd get asked to some middle school dance and you'd glare at her date when he arrived. She'd take her driver's license test in a police cruiser and you'd be very nervous about it. And then…" she wiped her eyes, "And then, someday, you'd walk her down the aisle and she'd become a woman right then and there, whether you'd want it or not..."

Rick didn't say anything. Michonne didn't either. But Lori took another breath and straightened up in her seat.

"But now?" she said, a bit more firmly, "Now, we don't even know how long we'll be here."

Rick glared at her. "We'll stay here as long as we can."

"You _know_ walkers will eventually come! They did at the quarry. They will here too. No place is safe, Rick! No place! And the baby will put us all in danger and we won't have everything he or she will need."

Now, Rick was angry! "What other options do we have, Lori? This is a blessing! Stop looking at this like it's a bad thing! This is what we do – we survive! We can't lose our humanity here! And we need this baby now more than anything! We're gonna have a baby and there's nothing that can stop it!"

Slowly, ever so slowly, she tilted her head towards him and sadly looked up at him. "Oh yes there is."

Confused, Rick just watched her. Michonne did too. But that's when they heard the truck come back. Within a few seconds, Andrea walked into the kitchen and came to a full stop. She was holding a small box and realized she had just entered a tense situation. However, Lori took control of the situation. She got up and approached Andrea.

"I'll take that." Lori autocratically said.

Andrea didn't want to give it up. She glanced at Rick and then back to Lori. But the brunette was insistent and stuck her hand out even further. Reluctantly, Andrea handed it over and Michonne chose to come out of her little nook.

"What's that?" Michonne asked. Everyone was surprised to see her sudden arrival. But then, she was ignored.

"Yeah, what is that?" Rick asked.

"It's none of your business." Lori nastily said. She snatched the box and walked towards the sink, prying the container open. Rick followed but didn't say anything. Instead, he just looked at her with a mixture of confusion and concern. Lori placed the box on the counter and turned to look at her husband. In all marriages, there's always a conversation that takes place with your eyes and it was obvious one was happening here. And no one saw Michonne quietly walking towards the sink and looking down. That's when her eyes bulged!

"RU-486!" she exclaimed.

.


	12. Chapter 12

"So, this is the solution?" Rick angrily asked, pointing at the box.

Lori wouldn't answer. Andrea and Michonne quickly realized this was a private conversation and quietly left the kitchen. Rick watched them leave and then looked back at his wife, who had moved to the sink, her back to him. Her head slowly dropped and Rick as losing his patience.

"Helloooo? I'm over here!" he said.

"I know…" she muttered. "I know… _exactly_ where you are."

His eyes narrowed. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

She whirled around! "You're the hero! You're the one that has all the answers. And if we don't do what you say, then, we don't matter. Well, I matter!"

"I'm not saying that at-!"

"I know you're not!" she screamed. "I know…!" she turned towards the window on the other side of the room and absentmindedly stared at a garden, near where Carol and Sophia were buried. Morosely, she said, "I don't know anything anymore."

Rick took one step towards her.

"Stop." She weakly said. "Just stop."

He did.

She continued. "I…" A tear threatened to fall down her face. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to keep fighting. I'm not you, Rick. I'm not Andrea or Maggie or Michonne or…" she covered her mouth with her fist and with a muffled voice added, "anyone."

"Ohhh, yes you are! Yes you _are!_ " This time, he did advance towards her and stood immediately at her back. He noticed how skinny she was and wanted to stroke her shoulder blades, spine, scapula, _anywhere_ to comfort her. But he held back and he didn't know why.

"You are my wife." He softly said. "You are Carl's mother. You are the one thing in my life that I-"

"Others…"

Rick looked confused. "Huh?"

"Just for others." Lori said with a reluctant laugh. "So, I'm just supposed to live for others and not myself? I'm just a…baby factory?"

Rick immediately groaned and took three steps back. "Ohhhhh! Hell naw, Lori! Look at what you do here! You help us live. You help us survive! When Glenn was in the well, who held the pulley? Who held Glenn's life in her hands?"

"Everyone helped."

"No! It was you, Lori. _You!_ And I'll be damned if that wasn't a useless thing!" He quickly advanced and firmly grabbed her biceps. "You! You are important."

Her only response was to shake her head. She wriggled out of his grasp and turned around. Thoughts became a maelstrom of confusion, anger, resentment, and most importantly, despair. That's when she glanced to the right and saw the box of abortion pills. Rick followed her line of sight.

"That," Rick acidly began, "is not a solution! You know this. I know this. We can make it. We'll figure it out. We know-"

"And be a burden on everyone else?" Lori firmly asked.

"We can all be a family."

She looked at him daringly. "And do you think they want that? T-Dogg? Herschel? Daryl? Maybe even Car-?"

"Maggie, Michonne, Andrea, Beth…" And then, he stared holes into her eyes. "And Carol and Sophia would've loved the baby too!"

It felt like a dagger in Lori's pregnant abdomen. Rick's words were the true Shakespearean sword that attacked her logic and determination. And she'd be damned if she'd give him any credit for it.

"Carol and Sophia are dead!" she roared. "They're dead! And you want to throw them in my face?!"

Rick threw his hands up in the air and once again, Lori stared at the box. The sun was beating down on it and she could see the manufacturer's mark, the UPC symbol, the directions of how to take it, and all the other nuances of American pharmaceuticals. Her unintentional diversionary tactic proved to be successful until she could hear Rick walking towards her once again.

"I don't know everything, Lori." He said, his head dropping a little. "All I know is that this feels wrong. And _if_ my opinion matters at all, I know we can make-"

"Well, it doesn't." Lori confidently said, wiping that tear away that almost fell on her cheek. Almost. "It doesn't. This is my choice."

Quickly, she snatched the box in her hand and removed the strip from it. His eyes went wide and he took a wild jump towards her! But like a kid on the playground playing keep-away, she held it up and away from him. They glared at each other in that hot kitchen, hoping and praying for the right direction life would take them. And instead, Lori rounded about. And with the pills in her hand, she stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Rick to wonder just who was that brunette that passed him.

.

"I need Ipecac! Maggie! Get it for me! _Now!_ "

Herschel's words cracked the air and Maggie ran out of the bedroom as fast as she could. The older doctor then turned back to Lori, who was convulsing in the bed. Rick stood stoically in the corner. No one else knew Lori was suffering. And for some reason, it felt right to be that way.

"Lori? Lori?!" Herschel yelled. "Dammit, girl! What in the sam hell did you eat?!" He looked towards Rick. "Did she eat wild berries or mushrooms or anything like that?!" When he didn't answer, Herschel returned to his patient. "Lori, you have to stay conscious! Come on, Lori. Do it!" Then, he looked to her husband. "Rick! Get over here! Keep her awake!"

But Rick barely heard the words. He tried to say 'abortion pills' but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He stared at her but wasn't really looking at her shaking frame. Instead, Rick was looking at the scene and his police officer instincts took over. There was a situation to deal with and his hand went to his hip for his radio. Not finding it, he took action.

He closed his eyes….

Rick ran to her side! Immediately, he looked to Herschel who just stared at him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. The cop ignored him and looked at his wife.

"Lori!" He screamed. "Lori! Can you hear me?!"

Suddenly, Lori went still. _Very_ still. Rick's eyes couldn't have gotten wider!

"Come back, Lori!" He yelled. "Come back!"

Immediately, Rick dropped his knees on the bed and did the ABC's of CPR. He checked her airway. She wasn't breathing. He checked her pulse. None. Then, he tilted her head back and still, it was the same result – no air was going in and out of Lori's body and her heart had stopped.

"Fifteen and two! Fifteen and two! Fifteen and two!" Rick hollered. Fifteen compressions, two quick breaths. Fifteen compressions, two quick breaths. Over and over he did this until his lungs burned and his lips cracked. After the fourth revolution, he checked for vital signs.

There were none.

"Fifteen and two! Fif-!"

"Just do it, Rick!" Herschel ordered. He hobbled to the other side of the bed. "I'll help!"

Herschel took over the breathing portion of it while Rick practically pounded on Lori's chest. Maggie had returned with the Ipecac and Andrea was right behind her.

Meanwhile, the men continued to work. Rick feverishly compressed and thought he heard her sternum crack but wasn't sure. He didn't care. He was on a police officer's ultimate mission – to serve and protect. And his wife was not going to die!

Herschel breathed. Rick struck. Maggie stood firm. Andrea watched. Everyone in the room held their breath and wished Lori to breathe, breathe, _breathe!_

Suddenly, Lori vomited! She turned her head to the side and threw up the abortion pills that were damaged from the sun. Collective sighs escaped everyone's mouths, except Rick and Lori. He held her close to him, a husband and a wife, secure in the present and ever hopeful for the future. She finally started to come around and her throat hurt from exertion. Revolting bile clung to her hair and the odor hung in the afternoon heat. Nevertheless, Rick and Herschel had saved her life and she was looking at her loving husband.

Rick opened his eyes. He didn't even realize Herschel had been snapping his fingers in front of him. Then, Rick finally focused and glanced his way. The older doctor had a serious expression on his face.

"I did everything I could…" Herschel said.

.


End file.
